Page 28 of Ghost Town Boogie

Having Colt’s arms around her, kissing him again, made her sad for all the lonely nights she’d had, and for all those still to come. She didn’t like being alone; never had. She wanted more of this, more Colt. Savor? Slow? That was a nice idea, but who was she kidding?

She didn’t want to ruin what hadn’t yet begun because she was already mourning its loss. Live in the moment was not her style, but tonight… tonight it needed to be.

No more thinking about what was to come. There was just this, just now.

Colt took the hem of her sundress in his hands and pulled it over her head. The flowery material was tossed aside. She kicked off her flip flops. One went under the bed. In seconds he had her bra and panties off, so she stood before him bare, wanting, and unafraid.

“Your turn,” she whispered, unsnapping his jeans while he pulled off his faded Metallica t-shirt.

Soon they were in one another’s arms on the new bed, on crisp, new sheets. She bounced, a little.

Colt was long and hard, lean and muscled, and oh, so warm. She loved his warmth, the way his skin felt against hers. Every cell in her body shimmered, shivered, ached. They kissed; they explored. For a moment she was angry for all the nights they hadn’t been together, and then she barely thought at all. She simply felt. Only this mattered, only today. Only tonight.

He spread her thighs and touched her, stroked until she was beyond ready. He rolled her onto her back, coming with her, hovering above, then paused.

“Birth control?” he asked simply.

“Yes.” Why, so many years after the divorce?

Optimism, she supposed. Pure, simple optimism mixed with a fear of failure that always stopped her from taking chances. But not tonight.

Gently, he pushed inside her and it was… right; a relief and also a promise of more. This was where he was meant to be, for now. He moved slowly, deeply. They found a rhythm that was theirs alone, and the rest of the world faded away. The feel of his body and hers moving together was more pleasurable than she’d dreamed it could be. And man, had she dreamed…

The end teased her, right there so soon and undeniable. She wanted to let go, to let release and pleasure come now. He’d think she was easy… she didn’t care…

She shattered; he came with her.

So much for savoring…

He drifted down to cover her, and she laughed.

Colt lifted his head to look down at her. “Laughter already. That can’t be good.”

She was breathless but managed to say, “I was determined to savor this night, but I swear, I couldn’t make myself slow down.” The image of a freight train wasn’t at all sexy, but there it was again. And it was appropriate.

He kissed her. This was a different kind of kiss. Not quick, not one of them surprising the other out of the blue. This was a planned kiss. It was slow, and deep, and wonderful. She could swear she tasted Colt’s satisfaction.

When the kiss ended he said, “The night’s not over yet.”

Sleeping with Anna wasn’t the biggest mistake he’d ever made, but it was up there. Not because the night hadn’t been great. Not because there was any reason for either of them not to. Not because she was Jack’s little sister.

Being on his own — a life with just him and the dead — was going to be so much harder when she was gone.

He’d miss more than the sex. He was going to miss lying in bed with her warm body next to his. Laughing in the middle of the night, naked, under the covers. For a while he’d managed to forget that he kept big secrets from her. They’d come together, found one another in a world full of people who weren’t right, and that was enough. It was more than enough.

The sex had been great, but this was more. Anna was more.

And he couldn’t keep her.

Sirens wailed in the distance, interrupting the quiet, peaceful night. Fire truck. He didn’t think much of the sound until it grew closer. Could be a kitchen fire at one of the restaurants. The sirens were too close to be at the depot. Weren’t they? He guessed that the sound came from either the south end of downtown or a neighborhood. Worst case was a home with someone in it, which would likely mean yet another ghost in Seawolf Beach.

Anna didn’t stir, not at the distant sirens, not when he left the bed and dressed in the clothes that had been dropped on the floor last night. She slept on, naked, satisfied, beautiful. He was tempted to lean over and kiss her cheek, but that wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. This was temporary. Casual. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

It wouldn’t hurt to step outside and try to determine where the wail of sirens were coming from. Before he reached the door, the alarming sound went silent. If the fire truck was close enough he’d see the red lights. At four in the morning it should be clear where the excitement was located. If there was any excitement at all.

Colt opened the front door and immediately caught a whiff of smoke. That was a bad sign, very bad. He stepped onto the porch just as Mac pulled his car to the curb. The chief stepped out. Mac looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. Between Nicole’s murder and whatever had called the fire truck out, he probably hadn’t.

“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” Mac snapped. “I figured I’d have to bang on the door to get you up.”